


La calma è la virtù dei forti

by katynicolegrace



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Original Character(s), implied tyrsts between percival and alba, percival graves's moral ambiguity and where to find it, possible 1920s potty mouth
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-16
Updated: 2016-11-16
Packaged: 2018-08-31 08:23:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8571337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katynicolegrace/pseuds/katynicolegrace
Summary: Alba Lassendei, Director of Covert Vigilance at MACUSA, has more on her plate than should be legal; between the rise of Grindelwald, and the abhorrent No-Maj hate groups becoming more and more vocal with their their own threats, it's no wonder that the citizens of the magical community are at their wits end. But when Alba receives an emergency owl informing her of a newer threat to the wizarding community's solitude, the precipice of war has never seemed more delicate. Who is this Newt Scamander, and who among their community is helping him? Will this be cause for disagreement between those in the magical community? And when will Grindelwald finally strike?





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hey all! Not much to say here, other than this is my very first story, so I suppose we'll see where this goes? Please enjoy, and comments are very welcome here!  
> *The title of the story refers to a phrase in Italian (of where our main character is from), and means, "The calm is the virtue of the strong," something which I feel applies to my dear Alba very well.  
> Obviously, I don't own the FB universe, nor do I own the Harry Potter universe. My name is not JK Rowling, nor am I anywhere near as good of a writer as she is.

Alba Lassendei would be lying to herself if she didn’t constantly wish for a moment of peace at work. The throng of workers that greeted her at the entrance of the building early that morning at MACUSA were just as busy as always; all around her, wizards and witches from around the country, and some from around the world, provided the regular conversation and yelled orders that contributed to the usual hum of the workplace. Above her, Alba could hear the flutter of owls, and from the below, the scurrying of the origami rats rushing from one office to the next. The ambiance of MACUSA was the same as always; busy, and never pausing for anything. Sometimes, the stream of work and noise made Alba’s head spin.  
Lately, it had seemed to evolve into something more complex with the growing threats of No-Maj action, and Grindelwald’s sudden rise in fanatics. Though Alba was willing to reassure her fellows that unity was the thing that kept those events from destroying them, it was hard even to convince herself that her words had conviction. The reminders were there every single morning when owls poured in regarding a new attack, or when the newer recruits sat among themselves, whispering about the never ending horrors that they could be plagued with.  
It was something Alba sometimes wished to break away from.  
She supposed that was a rather common feeling among many of the workers, and yet they pressed on.  
At MACUSA, it was...easy to get yourself caught in the whirlwind of wizarding politics and current events; if she was honest with herself, Alba wasn’t sure how exactly she’d made it this far along at the office, let alone as a Director. ‘La calma e la virtù dei forti,’’ she hummed to herself as she made her way through the busy lobby that dreary autumn morning. Around her, she saw a sea of faces as they all made their way to their way to their individual duties. On one occasion, Alba had noted that the building was akin to a beehive, a sentiment that she still held on to.  
“Good morning, Director Lassendei,” one of the Administrators greeted her as they strode by with their nose thrust into a series of papers. “Morning, Miss DeJaeger,” Alba returned as she made her way towards the row of lifts near the front desk. “Good luck finishing up those Accords, Lassendei,” another one shot in her direction. Alba whipped her head around to shoot a smile at Wells. “Much appreciated, Morrissey.” the woman thanked before stepping into the closest lift. Just as the doors had closed, her shoulders fell slightly and soon her head followed. How discouraging it was that the tense atmosphere that had lay at MACUSA the past several months hadn’t seemed to ease any? It got harder every day to face the world with a reassuring smile. She sighed as she adjusted her bag, and then pulled out her personal booklet to gauge the day's events.  
She had just started to graze the agenda, when the other passenger cleared their throat.  
“Good morning, Director Lassendei,” they greeted. The voice was somewhat familiar, and Alba felt the slightest pang of annoyance at the interruption. Alba glanced up from her planner to shoot the Junior officer a habitual smile. The young man, while looking somewhat frazzled, had a bounce to him that was likely unmatched in the workplace. Alba briefly wondered where that had gone for her. Instead of commenting on his elasticity, however, she opted for a pleasantry instead. “Good morning. Lorelli, isn’t it?” she asked, turning to him slightly. The young man nodded. “Department of Education, wasn’t it?” she asked curiously. “Yes, ma’am. And I don’t think I would have trouble remembering your name, Director Lassendei,” he replied with a broad smile.  
Alba shook her head. “No, it seems not a lot of people do these days, Mr. Lorelli,” she remarked smartly. Lorelli nodded, still smiling. “Starrett says the same thing, you know,” he said conversationally. Alba nodded politely; while not in a particularly chatty mood, she was rather curious of the recent developments in the Education Faction. “How was the meeting with the Hogwarts school board? Did Starrett and the others come to an agreement on what was to be taught in the upper division defense courses?” the Director wondered.  
Lorelli nodded. “Well, Hogwarts is certainly not pleased by the idea of introducing force in classrooms, but in a state like this, it obviously wouldn’t be unwise,” he explained. “But, after Anders from Pacific Westrealm spent a good ten minutes explaining in rather extreme detail what a lack of defense could look like for their students, they were willing to listen again.”  
Alba hummed in response, before asking, “And who else is the board meeting with in the future? I know that Durmstrang has been rather silent recently.”  
Lorelli shrugged.  
“Well, Beauxbatons was a little hard to convince at first, but they’re willing to have a sit down between as many school officials and ministry leaders as possible to come to some conclusion.”  
Alba lifted a brow. “That would be wise,” she commented flatly. Oh, Merlin; how had the world come to be at it’s current state? Alba wanted to speak of anything but the impending threats, but when the future was so ready to be fixed by those atrocities, it was difficult. Instead, she was surprised when Milo Lorelli spoke for her.  
“How do we get through this?” he asked quietly. The woman looked at him, with her thick brow quirked in inquiry. “What exactly?” she asked. The young man sighed. “Grindelwald,” he said, his voice sounding disgusted. Alba tilted her head in response. “The way we have gotten through every other threat; by standing together.”  
She felt as if she sounded hollow and ingenuine; she was sure Lorelli thought the same. He shot her a rather dark look. “No disrespect, Director Lassendei,” he began, “but you can't possibly believe that yourself.”  
Alba opened her mouth and spoke stoically. “We have to. Starett, Freaman, Graves, Picquery; they all do the same thing. It's the only way to keep the population assured. Else, we have no other chance of keeping the headache out.”  
Out of the corner of her eye, Alba could see that Lorelli was nodding stiffly. “Wizarding politics isn’t quite what it’s cracked up to be,” she muttered, making Lorelli snort.  
“Speaking of wizarding politics, how is your department faring with the upcoming Accords?” the young man asked politely. The woman was silent, before she faced him with a small smirk. “You mean to ask, ‘How am I faring?’” she commented swiftly. Lorelli looked slightly embarrassed by his remark.  
“Not to be insensitive by any means. Merely curious,” he explained.  
“How am I faring as a metamorphmagus?” the woman inquired further.  
Lorelli shook his head. “As the inaugural metamorphmagus. Not just as a worker for MACUSA, but as a representative for...for wizards and witches like you, I mean.”  
Alba laughed without humor. “Well, if we weren’t a percent of the already sparing wizarding population, then we would have been recognized as a supernatural group sooner.”  
Lorelli, she noticed, immediately shrank back; probably in shame.  
“I didn’t mean anything-” he began, before Alba cut him off, shaking her head. “No, I’m sure you didn’t,” she said stoically. The silence that followed was a thick one, and Alba briefly felt a pang of pity for the boy. She was sure he only meant well. After a few more quiet moments, she sighed and spoke up.  
“The Accords have been a long process. I’m just happy to see that we’ll have that taken care of,” she admitted. Then, she turned a curious eye towards Lorelli. “Why do you ask?” The young man appeared to be taken aback slightly; however, he recuperated quickly. “My sister,” he said. “She’s...well, she’s like you. She’s a Metamorphmagus, and...well, it would be lovely to see some good come from this world,” he admitted, looking at the older woman with a hopeful set of hazel eyes.  
Just then, the lift doors opened, and the young man tipped his hat in Alba’s direction. “Lovely speaking with you, Director Lassendei. I’ll give Starrett my regards,” he said in farewell.  
“Good morning, Mr. Lorelli. Thank you,” she replied. As he walked away, Alba felt a slight tug at her stomach. She remembered growing up in the high strung environment that was the American wizarding world, and the thought of what Lorelli’s sister must be feeling given the current climate made her grimace. She shook her head. But beside herself, and she hated feeling like this, the slightest pang of hope struck her. Maybe the girl would live to see the day where she could walk the streets safely?  
The feeling didn’t last long, however, for she was met with another visitor. A tawny owl was heading in her direction, and it appeared to be carrying a small letter. She bit the inside of her cheek; while origami rats meant standard business letters, owls generally meant something bigger. Alba flicked her hand at the lift to remain open as she waited for the owl with a furrowed brow. The little thing swooped in, and landed lightly on her shoulder. She raised a brow quizzically as she looked at the stripe it had on its wing; it was blue.  
It was from the Department of Magical Security.  
“Fantastic,” she muttered to herself. She quickly unopened the letter with a thousand things rushing through her head. What was it this time? An explosion? Another rogue wizard? How many muggles? Her thoughts came to pause as her eyes flicked through the words that had been scribbled quickly by someone, more than likely one of the young men in Percival’s office. Her hand clutched the letter tightly as she reread the account of the accident.  
“Que cosa..?” she wondered breathlessly to herself. She had been faced with several rather odd situations, but this one...this was new.  
The owl, who had waited patiently for some sort of thanks, hooted irritably at her. Alba glanced up from the letter that had suffered a hard grip on the woman’s part, and stared at the owl with irritated green eyes and a scrunched nose. “Will a cracker do?” she asked in exasperation. The owl gave a pleasant hoot, and flew off of the woman’s shoulder as soon as she fulfilled her end of the exchange.  
The woman made a noise of displeasure as the doors shut once more, and she was faced alone with the letter.  
What had happened that morning?


End file.
